


Too Late

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mark of Cain, Post-Mark of Cain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 21:29:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15470487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: The Mark of Cain is starting to wear on Dean and he takes it out on the person he cares about most...





	Too Late

Dean knew exactly what he was doing back then. He knew you saw right through his plan too. So he let it happen naturally. He let his worry over the Mark fade away until he was slowing his walk into rooms, trying to remember what acting normal was. Even that eventually stopped and he knew you were building up your walls ever so carefully around him.  

He saw you force yourself not to ask certain questions, not bring up certain topics, to smile and pretend you were alright. Dean knew he should have felt bad about that. He knew his true self would have called you out on it, made you talk about it or at least give you that look that said he was there for you.

It was so damn hard to fake doing that the longer the Mark was on his arm though.

He gave hollow words and gestures and nothing more. No matter how strong he knew you were, he was chipping away at you, helping build that wall up between you. Faintly he remembered that was what he wanted all along.

But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out  _why_  the Dean before the Mark, the Dean that could actually feel something for you, would want to hurt you. He didn’t care. He knew he was supposed to though and that one shred of compassion was all he could manage to hold onto.

Until Dean remembered carrying your bags out to your car, doing it with a smile because wasn’t he being helpful? Wasn’t that a nice thing to do and didn’t nice people smile? Your face was red but you showed no other sign of emotion, nothing at all as you slid into the drivers side and drove away, Dean not caring when you came back.

Two days, two weeks, two months went by and you didn’t return. Dean heard Sam talking to you on the phone on occasion. You weren’t dead so that was good, he figured. Or at least that’s what he thought would have been normal to say.

When the Mark was finally gone, he remembered everything that’d been pushed away so perfectly clear.

Standing over a battered, bruised, and confused but relieved Sammy…a giant sickle in his hands that Sam was still giving a nervous glance to…

Dean’d been good. He’d tried to save you the only way he knew how. You were nowhere to be found on that day and that brought a sliver of joy to the empty pit in his gut.

He saved you from himself. 

When he tracked you down not long after that, he thought about how you’d be able to fix everything that felt so wrong in him. One night, one talk, one more you’re not a monster…Dean knew he’d be okay if he could just talk to you again.

But you were in a house. You were playing with a dog in a front yard, teasing a man that was washing your car, giggling when he turned it in your direction and he started to chase you around. 

For a split second he thought about getting out of Baby anyways, running over and spewing out the apology he knew would never be enough. 

He left before he could do that though, vowing to leave you be and never come back for you, never again. 

Because that’s what he deserved in the end.

Dean was so focused on repeating that mantra over and over to himself as he drove off, he never even saw you in the rearview mirror, staring at the Impala.

He never realized the house was your friends. He never realized you were taking a break from hunting. He never realized you never gave up hope on him.

He never realized he was the one that left you.


End file.
